


Shattered

by taxycab



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: CACW, Captain America Civil War - Freeform, Civil War, Gen, M/M, Post-Civil War (Marvel), hurt!Tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-03 18:04:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4110082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taxycab/pseuds/taxycab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First-person narrative of Tony Stark post-Civil War.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shattered

**Author's Note:**

> So basically this is my first fic on here, and I'm not completely sure how everything works. I hope you enjoy it anyway!  
> In the original story, Bucky takes Steve's place as Captain America, so I sort of acknowledge that here. Just thought I'd clarify in case it gets confusing.

Fear is a powerful weapon.  
If you ask me, I'm not the break-down-crying-helpless-10-year-old-girl type. 20 bucks says that if you asked the team, they'd say the same. I'm friggin' Tony Stark. I mean, come on. I've got the brains, the money, the squad, the looks. No one messes with me. Except for that one time when there was a murder-bot raging through busy streets filled with innocent lives, exposed and waiting to be picked off one by one. And that one time when my potential best friend got completely ripped apart by bullets. Also that one time when there was a nuclear bomb that was headed straight for Manhattan. Oh yeah, don't forget that one time with the metal dragon-worms from outer space. Plus that one time with the terrorist dude who tried to kill my girlfriend. Is she my girlfriend? I don't know, I'm not on everyone's best side right now.  
As I said before, fear is a powerful weapon.  
And it's driven me to desperation in measures you wouldn't even dream were possible. Basically, all this translates to the inevitable reality that everything is my fault. Steve won't let me hear the end of how I should "stop blaming myself because none of this is on my hands" and then tries to rant about logic and justice and patriotic crap, I guess. I don't really know, I tend to sort of... zone out after the first few mentions of "bloodbath" and "aliens" and "magic" and "death". What can I say, I'm an optimist. I have to be, otherwise this playboy billionaire wouldn't exist.  
I guess I just really needed someone. No, scratch that, that came out really wrong. I just really... felt the need to have a friend. Yeah. After insane Russian guys snapping lightning-whips at me and stuff- people that I care about? Definitely not a trip to Disney Land. I couldn't turn to Rhodey, God forbid Pepper. I guess when I met Bruce, for the first time in ages, I wasn't lying when I said the words, "it's a pleasure to meet you". I had no idea the Other Guy was as much of a burden as he was. Learning about the suicide attempt felt like creating a new element for my arc reactor. I had just discovered something ground-breaking. I wasn't alone.  
So, I decided to not even make the smallest attempt at changing a single dang thing. Go me. I guess my dumb ego was too idiotically huge to even care about fixing this. I'm a mechanic. I fix stuff. It's what I do. Stark Industries was built on the belief that there was a future out there, and it was bright. I guess it was too bright, and that's when the sunglasses dropped in for a permanent stay. AKA the suits. I fix stuff for my own entertainment, but I couldn't fix myself. Sometimes I think about dad, and how he dealt with it. But then I remember that he wasn't guilty for murder. He didn't have countless, wasted, innocent lives weighing down his hands. His future was always bright. I guess it was bright enough for the two of us, cause after he died, I didn't see anything left.  
So, I did what I knew how to do. I made stuff. I made more suits, I upgraded JARVIS, I designed the Avengers tower, I worked with Fury and helped the Avengers Initiative. But I think the point of absolute despair was New York. That was it. The last straw, the final countdown, whatever. I still have nightmares of Natasha's voice over the comms, alerting us that we very well could have victory. Nightmares of my own voice, telling her to stop, don't shut it yet. I thought of Bruce quite literally shooting himself in the face. The other guy just spit it out, I could hear, and almost see the quiet disappointment in his eyes. So I thought, why not go out with a bang? I'd be the hero, for a day at least. Grabbing that missile, pulling it up, flying through that portal with nothing but an explosive in my arms and a failed call to the person I cared about most at the time, was utterly terrifying.  
I am actually going to die. It was all I could think of as I watched the bomb hurtle towards the massive ship floating just miles above the earth. The darkness around me somehow got darker, and I knew the portal was closing. There was an aching feeling in my chest somewhere by my arc reactor. I guess I couldn't even count on my best friends when I needed them most. I just remember one last thought echoing through my head as my suit failed, and I fell through space, back towards the desolate rock I call home.  
I would have waited.

 

I hate Captain America.  
The guy is unrealistically optimistic, overbearing, and incredibly difficult to work with. He's the star spangled man with a plan. A fake mask to hide the brutal reality of war itself. Captain America is a phoney, a con man, a lie. I hate Captain America. You know who's honest, intelligent, and a great friend? Steve Rogers.  
I love Steve Rogers.  
When Bucky saved Steve's life, I didn't know what to think. Well, I knew somehow it was my fault. It had to be. Bucky was Hydra, I fought monsters from Loki-land, Loki had to do with the Tesseract, Hydra wanted the Tesseract. Boom. Connection. There you go, it's my fault. I'm sure if I thought about it more, I could make a direct connection. There always is. I wasn't there when Steve almost lost his life, but I remember the exact moment I found out. JARVIS had interrupted the nanochip re-calibration to my new Mark 44 suit. He told me that there was news on Captain Rogers and brought up all information he had on the event. I guess I had... zoned out again because the next thing I remember, Pepper is shaking my shoulders and I'm drenched in my own sweat. I brushed her off and waited until she left, all the while continuing my work. I watched her sleek black high-heels click up the stairs and out of the garage. I waited until the only sound that could be heard was my own heartbeat.  
Then I just lost it.  
I wasn't loud, or super angry, there was no flipping of tables or screwing up my own inventions. That would have been stupid. My life isnt a movie and I don't intend to treat it so. When I say I lost it, I just lost it. I lost my control, I lost my breath, and apparently I lost a ton of water in my face cause it was leaking rapidly out of my eyes. It was all just too much to think about all at once. I regret telling Steve that everything special about him came from a bottle. Anything special about me just came from a drunk, abusive man who didn't give two craps for his so-called "best creation:" me. Steve is a hero. I'm a billionaire who happens to be smart enough to build high-tech jet packs.  
When I realized that Steve wasn't invincible, I knew right then that whatever messed up relationship we had, I needed to make a move to fix it. So, finally, I went to see Steve. We met over lunch on a Saturday afternoon, and I remember there was this dumb fly that wouldn't leave Steve's burger alone. It was nice to visit with him while we weren't constantly worried about something shooting us in the head at any moment. We kind of grew on each other after that. Nat started to tease us, and I remember the day when I watched Steve from across the room. He was talking to Bruce and making subtle gestures to Nat. Well, well, Steve was giving up Nat? Amazing. I had seen Bruce and Nat just moments before; she was obviously flirting. Bruce has no idea what he's doing around the ladies. I shook my head and scoffed, taking another swig from the alcohol in my left hand. Steve obviously had a crush on her. If I'm being honest, I'm fairly sure there's no way none of us were at least slightly attracted to her at some point. Currently it looked like Bruce's heart was next in line. Crazy stuff.  
Anyways, I guess I'm going a bit off track. From there on out, Steve and I just grew closer. There was actually a night when he held me through a time when I... zoned out. It was probably awkward but I don't care, that guys arms are like a friggin' protective teddy bear.  
I remember when we parted ways.  
I told him he'd miss me, I'd miss him, there'd be a lot of man-tears involved. I was only joking. I'm Tony Stark, what else do you expect but sarcasm and mockery? His face said otherwise, though. We shook hands, bro-hugged, whatever you'd expect from friends. We locked eyes then.  
That's the last time I remember seeing them looking so full of life.  
Who knew how fast it can drain out of a person?

 

I think no one quite understands what it's like to be alive. We all take this simple thing, this fist-sized muscle, beating every day for hours on end, never stopping, for granted. It keeps us alive and breathing and looking forward to tomorrow. There are plenty of perfectly simple ways to stop this seemingly never ending thrumming in our chest. Life is precious. Don't waste it on petty arguments. I learned that lesson the hard way.  
As I mentioned before, I regret telling Steve that everything special about him came from a bottle. It was dumb and stupid and I never apologized for that. Never.  
There came a time when my mind was tested yet again. I had to fight a war. Bucky came back, and he really seems to confuse me because once again, I wasn't sure how I felt. I probably should be pissed as hell at him, but I don't have the energy anymore. Nat's been trying to track down that psycho guy and she's asked me multiple times to help. It's just getting annoying now. My mind doesn't work like it used to. I can't think or breathe or blink. Nothing works, and I feel like my heart is frozen, frozen in a certain ice capsule containing my happiest memories to soon be made, later morphing into lurking shadows of my worst fears and regrets. Sure, New York was my breaking point, but The War was my shattering point. Loki melted me to ash, and I did my best to piece myself back together. I changed into sand, corse and rough and a solid-liquid. Steve smelted me into glass, a firm structure, but still delicate. And now this. My glass was shattered. There's no coming back.  
Captain America lives on. I hate Captain America. He's a con man, a lie, a trick. His mask hides the brutal reality of war and death itself. Bucky Barnes is not Steve Rogers. Steve Rogers was my friend, my light, my path to redemption. Bucky Barnes is Captain America, and he hides the cold reality that with war comes consequences.  
Steve Rogers is, quite simply, dead.  
I am shattered. The only things I have left are my shards. And I hate Captain America.


End file.
